It happened this morning. She went into the vet's room, limping, head down but still managing a wag. And me and my son said goodbye and stayed outside while she was put to sleep. Turns out she probably had bone tumors so there was nothing else to do. So long Cookie. Bless her, the first dog I've ever had from a puppy, the dog my son grew up with.
Cookie

We're all sad, even though it's for the best. My son came home and went to bed - totally knackered. I sat nodding off in the sunshine, reflecting on a strange 24 hours.

24 hours ago, sitting at home drinking wine with a 21 year old, kissing on the sofa. "Come on, before I change my mind," she says, taking me upstairs. I've heard more romantic come-ons, but hey, it's not the time where conversation counts for much. And the conversation earlier that night, well, I guess it's not a long term relationship in the making.

15 hours ago, waking up in bed beside her, soft and smiling. Breakfast, coffee, weekend papers (her - Guardian, me - Telegraph). It's been a daft fantasy of mine that I'd someday have a girlfriend who wanted to read the weekend papers in a big bed with me over coffee, a girlfriend who'd fight me for the news-section, not just turn to handbag reviews. And it'd never happened til today.

13 hours ago, lying on the bed kissing, the phone rings, my ex-wife in tears, she's taking the dog to the vets.

10 hours ago, back at my ex's house, drinking tea and talking about all the funny things Cookie did when she was a puppy - nicking some woman's flip-flop and fucking off up the beach with it, getting medieval on some poor puppy's ass.

9 hours ago, sending a text to the 21 year old "I'd like to see you again but I don't know when we'll next get to. Ah well, it gives us a chance to think what we make of this thing of ours...."

8 hours ago, getting a text, not recognising the number:
"Hey I was just thinking that we haven't really spoken as friends for ages and its my fault I guess. So do you want to have lunch next week sometime? It would just be nice to catch up maybe?"

I took me a minute to work it out. I didn't recognise the sender because I had deleted her number from my phone months ago. It's from my ex-lover - the woman I thought I'd lost forever- it's a long, private story. But it's her... contacting me.

We should meet on Wednesday.